


Ritual

by kittleimp



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Past Drug Use, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:25:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3207431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittleimp/pseuds/kittleimp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon dealt with more than his share of self hatred in his first life. Kieren desperately wanted to carry through his life hating the very skin that was stretched over his slender frame. Together, they fell into a ritual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [BlatantlyQueer](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blatantlyqueer) and [rosecat13](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecat13) for their editing skills.

Simon dealt with more than his share of self hatred in his first life. Every slip of a needle into his arm came with a simultaneous flood of relief and self-hatred. His parents didn’t know, not at first, and he hated himself for hiding his addiction from them. Then they found out, and he hated himself even more for being a disappointment.

When his he graduated from university he hated himself for celebrating with an extra fix and blissed out sex with his equally high roommate. He berated himself for getting fired when his boss grew tired of watching his cold sweats grow worse throughout the day. His parents’ disappointment when he moved back in only made things worse, their knowing glances driving him farther into the warm embrace of his heroin. Simon took his last breath with paramedics shouting at him. Somewhere between the realization that he was dying and the fear of what would come next, he loathed himself for letting things go so far.

When he rose again, he tried to change things. After his dad threw him out of the front door, once the Undead Prophet took him in with open arms, he did everything that he could to be worth his idol’s pride. Somewhere along the way he found that he loved being a leader like the Prophet had become for him.

The Redeemed flocked to the ULA safe houses in droves, searching for acceptance. It seemed that everyone needed someone to save them from their own self-hatred. Simon embraced the newcomers. His small voice, so often stalled by nerves, grew into a preacher’s tone that spoke of self-love. Accept yourself. Love yourself. Do not be ashamed of who you are. For the first time in two lives, he wasn’t.

When he met Amy, he could see the fear pinching her face into a plastic smile. She walked in wearing layer after layer of mousse with makeup caked over that. Simon could see himself in her. Amy needed love and acceptance just as much as he had. In time her makeup came off, and her contacts came out. It was sad that in the end, it had only taken kindness. It was sadder that he was the first to give her that.

“I can’t wait for you to meet Kieren!” she had said, skirts bouncing as she spun down the road.

Simon saw Kieren and felt like someone has blown his heart all over the inside of his cold, motionless chest. Kieren was layered with cover up and serving HVF brutes who crowed about their murders as if they were still something to be proud of. Words floated back to him from an old nightmare.

“The living just care about surviving for as long as humanly possible.”

As they got to know each other, Simon was sickened by the internalized hatred Kieren kept hidden behind a blank stare or an empty smile. Kieren opposed everything Simon stood for. It wasn’t out of the denial or fear that he was so used to seeing. Instead, Kieren desperately wanted to carry through his life hating the very skin that was stretched over his slender frame. That was all that he knew.

Life dragged them through the dirt. Between Kieren’s battle with Blue Oblivion, Simon’s betrayal of the ULA, and mourning over Amy’s death, the two hardly had any time together; and when they did, Simon never pushed Kieren. The two cherished their rare moments with each other and slowly became more comfortable. They progressed gradually from watching old movies together to curling up and sharing stories from their first lives.

Those calm sessions in the bungalow, left to Simon in Amy’s will, eventually began to end in soft kisses. Their skin was growing more sensitive as they continued taking doses of their medication. Simon was the first to push his hands up under Kieren’s shirt. The younger Redeemed helped to slip the fabric over his head, messing up his hair in the process.

Together, they fell into a ritual. He would whisper praises as his fingers brushed over Kieren’s pale chest. The smaller man would meet his eyes when he looked up and cup his cheek as they met in a gentle kiss. His lips would trail across Kieren’s jaw and down his neck; every touch that could barely be felt carried another sweet compliment.

“What do you see in me?” Kieren had asked innocently one night.

In the light of the moon, Simon had traced all of the reasons he cared for Kieren onto his chest and woven descriptions of his love’s beauty into every kiss. Kieren was his first and his last. He was the one that liveth and was dead, and behold he was alive forever more.

Simon told Kieren of the beauty of his face, even - especially - with his white eyes and pale skin. He traced the jagged scars on Kieren’s wrists and spoke of bravery. Strength to carry on a second time when things had only gotten worse. When Kieren tried to protest, he set the other’s fingers on his own scars. The skin was rough and misshapen where needles had been pressed through until the skin was too hard to let him through.

“It isn’t a contest, Kieren,” Simon reminded him more times than he could count. “I’m just reminding you that you’re not alone. We just escaped in different ways.”

Simon traced every curve and dip of Kieren’s skin while he described every detail that he found alluring. The small quirk of his smile. How he found the strength to order Gary out of the pub. Even his cold rage, and the way that he would boil over when it all became too much. Kieren’s passion, for all that he tried to hide it, was a force of nature that would forever leave Simon reeling.

When Kieren’s breathing had slowed for the night, Simon would sit to the side and watch him until sleep took him. The moonlight through his bedroom window illuminated Kieren’s pale face. In sleep, all of the tension drained from Kieren’s body and expression. No strained smile or tired frown pulled at Kieren’s beautiful features, no stress crowded his forehead, no panic could be found in those closed, peaceful eyes. The two of them would drift off face to face and wake up to gentle sunlight peeking through the shades, knowing that the ritual would repeat again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed it! Any bit of feedback would be greatly appreciated.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as [kittleimp](http://kittleimp.tumblr.com).


End file.
